


Picking Battles

by someofthissomeofthat11011



Category: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:20:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someofthissomeofthat11011/pseuds/someofthissomeofthat11011
Summary: At the end of junior year, Simon and Bram finally meet. As they go into senior year and try to keep their relationship hidden, they run into an unexpected complication. The stuff with Martin never happened.





	Picking Battles

**Author's Note:**

> So I’m not gonna lie. This whole story spawned from a specific line that came to me at like 3am and I found it so funny I woke up laughing and actually remembered it. And then this happened. I hope you enjoy it :)

“I know who you are,” a quiet voice comes from my left. I’m waiting outside the school for Nora and I’m not expecting it, so I nearly fall off the ledge I’m sitting on. I turn to see Bram Greenfeld. He’s weaving his fingers through each other and is looking at me nervously. It kinda throws me off that he’s trying to start a conversation with me. My instinct is to ask him if he needs to know the English homework - he’s forgotten to write it down a remarkable number of times the last few months - but today was the last day of school, so there’s not really homework.

“I’d hope so,” I say. “You’ve been sitting at my lunch table for two years.”

“That’s not what I mean. I know… well, I hope I know,” he says. His eyes are blazing with a mix of fear and determination.

“Are you feeling okay?” I ask uncertainly. I cannot make heads or tails of what he’s saying and I’m wondering if maybe he’s feverish, but he looks totally normal. I realize a little too late that I’m staring at him and he’s looking down at the ground in embarrassment. I quickly look away from him.

“I’m feeling brave.” He stops fidgeting and it’s like his nerves mostly disappear. “Jacques, right?”

I stare at him. I still don’t quite get it. How the hell does he know about my pen name? Did I leave my email up on the computer? But I haven’t checked it at school in weeks because there hasn’t been much to check. Then I notice that the longer I’m silent, the more anxious he looks. After a minute, he starts fidgeting again and the more I watch him, the more I realize that there’s something more than fear in his expression. He looks as if he’s outing himself as much as me and I begin to hope. I run through everything I know about Blue in my head and the more I think about it, the more it comes together. “Blue.” My voice sounds breathless and the smile that spreads across his face is the best confirmation I could have received.

“Yea,” he says shyly. He does this thing where he kind of looks down and his eyelids flutter. All he needs is rosy cheeks and he would seriously look like the poster child for bashfulness.

I have the extremely strong urge to hold his hand or maybe just push him against the wall and kiss him. It’s so strong and overwhelming, it seems like it might not go away until I’ve done something. I’ve daydreamed about this moment a hundred times and I never had an audience for this meeting. I quickly think of something to say before I do something stupid in front of the whole student body. “Why now?” His face falls and I realize that’s probably not the enthusiastic reaction he was hoping for, so I hastily add, “it’s not that I’m not happy to know who you are… believe me, I’m really freaking happy. Like ecstatic, overjoyed, rapturous. I’m running out of SAT words, so I hope you know what I mean.” Maybe my mom’s right and I’m getting more dramatic since I was in the play. “I’m just wondering why now? We’ve been… I don’t want to say fighting, but disagreeing about this for months. And how did you figure it out?” That’s the part that’s stumping me the most. Maybe it’s because I had no freaking clue who he was, but I kind of expected him to be in the same boat.

“Don’t be mad, but I’ve kind of suspected for awhile. Like since around Thanksgiving. I just wasn’t 100% and I figured, if it wasn’t you at least I would have the whole summer to recover from my embarrassment,” he explains. “And I really couldn’t imagine going the whole summer and only talking to you over email.”

“So you want to see me over the summer, huh?” I don’t expect an answer, so I’m not surprised when he only nods. He looks down at the ground. I can’t believe this. He’s Blue. He’s really Blue? I have practically gone crazy trying to figure out who Blue is and Bram never even made the list. “Does this mean you’re out? Or that you’re coming out?” I ask him. The thought makes me anxious. I’ve almost told my parents about 1000 times, but I could never do it. The little voice in my head stops me every time.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m ready to tell people. Not even my parents. But I’m ready for you. I have been for awhile.”

“Thank god. That’s probably bad of me to say, but thank god that you’re not ready.” I dramatically let out a sigh of relief just to prove my point. I have a feeling it would have ruined everything if he was ready and I wasn’t. He chuckles. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nora hugging one of her friends and I realize we don’t have much time. This isn’t the time or the place for us to talk. We’re probably lucky that no one around us listened in, but that’s the perk of being AP nerds. Aside from our friends, no one really gives us the time of day. “Do you want to come over? My parents won’t mind. Or will it be really weird to introduce you to them as my friend?”

He frowns. “I didn’t really think that far ahead. I guess-”

“Hey,” I say to Nora. It’s more for Bram’s benefit than hers. “Took you long enough.”

“Excuse me if I actually have friends I want to say goodbye to,” she says sarcastically.

I roll my eyes and toss her my keys. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Bram waits until she’s out of earshot to say anything. “I think it’ll be weird, but I kind of think it’s unavoidable. And I’ll probably tell my mom you’re my friend.” He sighs. “Are you sure it’s okay? You don’t have plans with Nick or Leah?”

I actually don’t. Nick’s probably too busy hooking up with Abby - they don’t have much time before Nick goes to his grandparents for the summer and Abby starts her internship in DC. And Leah’s been weird ever since Nick and Abby started dating four months ago. “Nope,” I say with a shrug. “And I’d rather spend time with you anyway. I mean, this is a really big freaking deal! I finally know who you are! I can’t believe you finally told me.”

He grins. “Well, I guess you finally wore me down.”

Understatement. Of. The. Freaking. Century. I’d practically been begging him since Valentine’s Day to tell me who he is. We actually had only talked sparingly these last couple of weeks, because I was so frustrated and I was kinda picking fights with him. I don’t know what to say to that, because I feel a little childish about it, so I redirect. “So will you come over?”

He bites his lip and nods. “Here, give me your phone. I’ll give you my number so you can text me your address.” My heart beats fast when his hand brushes mine as I pass him my phone.

I’m practically a mess on the way home. I don’t even know why. Surely, that was the hard part, right? It should all be smooth sailing from here. Yet I feel like since we didn’t talk, anything could happen. Nora only makes me more nervous as I drive. And okay, maybe she had every right to freak out when I almost ran a stop sign or when I nearly took out a tree. And maybe she wasn’t totally off when she called me a lunatic or asked me how I ever got my license, but that really doesn’t help me calm down.

Once we get home, I run to my bedroom. I figure I have maybe a minute’s head start and I need to make my room slightly presentable. Or at least make it look like I’m not a gross teenage boy.

I’m grateful that I’m weird and quirky when it comes to my bed, because by the time the doorbell rings, I’ve only managed to throw some clothes in the closet. If it weren’t for my bed being pristine, I would look like a complete slob. As I’m walking out, I grab the empty container of Oreos from my desk and throw it out. That’s a little better.

I bound down the stairs and quickly tell my mom that Bram is a friend from school before I open the door. I don’t give him the chance to meet my parents. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to kiss him in front of my parents if we don’t get some alone time soon.

When I close my door behind us, I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to talk. We’ve done more than enough talking the last eight months. I feel like I know just about everything there is to know about him and all I want to do is learn what it feels like to kiss him. I guess Bram feels the same way, because he smiles at me mischievously and his eyes practically light up. “Can we talk later?”

I don’t know if I answer him, all I know is that suddenly, he’s holding me tight and his lips are pressed against mine. I think I might be on fire or Bram is unlocking a part of me that I didn’t realize existed. I have no idea, but I feel like every atom in my body is igniting - but in a good way. If this is how kissing feels, I really get why so many people do it whenever they can. I never used to understand it and when I was younger, I actually used to make faces anytime I saw people kissing. The first time I kissed Anna, I was trying to figure out how I could stop kissing her without seeming like an asshole. Now I’m trying to figure out how I can convince Bram that we never need to stop kissing.

I didn’t have much time to think about what it would be like to kiss Bram, but I had eight months to think about what it would be like to kiss Blue. I always thought he would be gentle and sweet and would turn me into a puddle with his lips. And it’s not like Bram’s not all of those things, but he’s also pressure and rough in just the right way.

“No, I’m not done,” I say when he pulls back and I stand on my toes to kiss him one more time. I blush when I realize I didn’t just think that in my head.

Bram starts to laugh which effectively ends the kiss. He leans his forehead against mine and I can feel his laughter vibrating through him. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t stop laughing, so I kind of doubt that he’s actually sorry. I don’t really care because after a second, I start laughing along with him. I don’t even know what’s so funny. Maybe nothing is and we’re just really relieved that we could have this moment and that we might have many more of these moments.

When I calm down, I lead him to my bed. I watch him crawl towards my headboard and I’m quick to join him.

For hours, we just hold each other, which is somehow better than the kissing. We talk about anything and everything and sometimes nothing. It’s honestly the best thing ever. When Bieber paws at my door, I let him in and he immediately climbs up on my bed and begins licking Bram. I’m kind of grateful that Bram and Bieber seem to have already fallen in love with each other, because I would never be able to date someone that couldn’t at least tolerate Bieber. We stay like that until my mom knocks on my door to tell us dinner is ready. Have I ever mentioned how much I love early dismissals? Seriously, they are the best. And not just because I got to cuddle with Bram for almost six hours because of them… well, yeah okay, it’s mostly because of that.

But seriously, I feel like we really freaking needed this. We needed to make out like crazy and then spend hours talking to each other. It made the transition from Jacques and Blue to Simon and Bram seamless.

I reluctantly get off my bed and Bram hesitates only a moment before he follows me. “You sure you’re cool introducing me as your friend?”

“I plan on having you around quite a lot, so I don’t really see a way around it,” I point out.

He nods and grins. “Then I guess it’s time for dinner.”

My family is pretty indifferent towards Bram, just like they are with Nick. I take that as a good thing, because at least I’ll have some time before they even have the chance to scare him away.

In fact, it’s three weeks before I broach the topic with Bram. My conscious is starting to catch up with me and it’s making me feel guilty about the sleepovers and all the kissing that happens behind our locked doors - something I’m 110% sure my parents won’t be thrilled about.

“I want to tell our parents,” I tell him. His mom is at work, so we’re at his house. He’s lying down on his bed and I’m leaning against it. It would be so easy to turn my head to look at him, but I don’t do it.

We haven’t talked about this stuff yet. I mean, we’ve vaguely talked about it in a ‘once our parents know’ kind of way, but nothing more than that. When Nick first started dating Abby, he talked about the honeymoon phase. I didn’t really believe it was a thing. I thought that he was making excuses because they’d just gotten in their first fight, but I kinda feel like I understand now. I think during our honeymoon phase, I was afraid to say anything because it was all so new and it was easy to pretend things like parents and families had nothing to do with our relationship, but I can’t really pretend anymore. And I think that I’m ready to pick this battle.

“I don’t know about that,” he says nervously.

“We don’t have to tell anyone else,” I assure him. I’ve been working on this argument a couple of days now and I’m hoping it will show him how serious I am. “I know our parents won’t tell anyone. We don’t even have to tell Nora or Alice yet. I can wait to tell them. I just feel like the longer we wait, the more likely we are to make our parents angry that we’ve been sneaking around. And I really want my parents to know. Plus, if they know then we can spend a little more time together without our parents being weird about it.”

“I just don’t think I’m ready,” he says quietly. “But I’ll think about it. I promise.”

“Thanks.” I kiss the side of his head and he turns his head so I can kiss him properly.

I give him a week to think about it before I bring it up again. This time we’re in my room and we’re cuddling on my bed. Bieber is sleeping across our laps and the rise and fall of his chest is actually really soothing. “I really don’t want to pressure you about this,” I start.

“Not again,” he grumbles.

“I’ve only brought it up once,” I point out.

“And that’s one too many. Why do we have to change what we have? I think we’re in a really good place,” he argues.

I sit up a little straighter which causes Bieber to jump off of us. “I don’t.” I realize a little too late that my voice is too loud and I wait a minute before I continue speaking. “I think we were in a good place, but I really don’t feel good about keeping this from our families. And what’s the point of being together if we can’t even tell our own freaking parents about it? Do you know, I almost called you my boyfriend the other day? And then I nearly had a heart attack because I remembered that I can’t tell anyone you’re my boyfriend so I had to play it off and tell them you’re my boi.” I’d thrown up peace signs and everything - it probably makes the list of my top 5 embarrassing moments. “Do you know the number of times I’ve called someone my boi? That was the first. And it was horrible.” I’m pretty impressed with my ability to keep my voice down, but Bram still looks at the wall that separates mine and Nora’s room nervously.

“Calm down,” he says urgently. “I didn’t realize this was so important to you.”

For some reason that makes me inexplicably mad. I stood up and watch as he swung his feet over the side of my bed so he was facing me. “Why wouldn’t it be important? You’ve seen my family. We’re not exactly the kind of people that keep shit from each other.”

“That’s not fair. You can’t expect me to be psychic about stuff like that,” he points out.

“Maybe not, but this has obviously been driving me nuts. I didn’t mind it at first, because a couple of weeks to focus on me and you was perfect. But we’ve been together a month! When are you planning on telling them? When we’ve been together a year? After we graduate from college? Oh, how about we tell them through our freaking wedding invitations. What are you waiting for?” Part of me knows I’m overreacting, but I’m pissed.

“We’ll tell them eventually,” he says defensively.

“Eventually isn’t enough for me,” I snap. He looks at me helplessly and I realize that he doesn’t want them to know. I don’t mind being his secret, but I mind hiding it from our parents. “I need you to go.”

“Simon…”

“Please. Just go. I think we both need some time to think.”

I don’t look at him, but I hear the shuffle of his feet as he leaves. He hesitates by the door, but after a few seconds he opens it and slips out. I’m grateful that he closes it behind him, because I don’t have the strength to get up and close it. It’s the strangest thing. I don’t cry, I just feel numb. This is the end of us. I know it is. There are some things you can’t move past and one of them is the fact that I’m ready to come out to my family and he’s not. I can’t keep this from them anymore. I’ll give him a few days, but I have to tell them regardless of whether we stay together or not. They deserve to know that I’m gay.

Five days pass. We don’t speak a single word to each other, not even via text. I’m pretty sure that we broke up and just somehow bypassed the talking-about-it stage. And it sucks because I don’t even have anyone to talk to about it. No one knew, so who could possibly understand?

I’m sitting on my bed with Bieber - he’s the only one that’s managed to make me feel even the slightest bit better these past few days. I’ve been pretty unbearable to the point where my family has stopped trying to draw me out.

“Simon!” Nora calls. “Door!”

It takes me a minute to muster the strength to sit up - it’s almost one and I haven’t gotten out of bed yet so I’m a little stiff. It’s apparently a minute too long because Bram walks into my bedroom before I even get out of bed. “What are you doing here?” I ask uncertainly.

He shuts my bedroom door. “I came out to my parents,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“My dad came up to see me. My stepmom is due in a little over a week and he wanted to see me now because he figured it would be awhile before they are up for company or before they’ll try going anywhere with my brother,” he explains. “And while he was going on about how long it’ll be before we’ll see each other, I just started thinking about what you said. What was I waiting for? And I realized I was waiting until I wasn’t scared, but that was never gonna happen. So I told them.”

“How’d they take it?” I ask.

“Pretty well,” he admits. “I feel so stupid about it now. Like I should have known that they would have been fine with it. And I definitely shouldn’t have picked a fight with you. I’m so sorry. You were right. The only thing they were upset about was how long we’ve been sneaking around.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you. You’ll be ready for stuff when you’re ready for it,” I admit. “I’m not gonna lie. I’m so happy that you told your parents, but you should have been able to do it on your terms. I would have been pissed if I had to tell my parents when I wasn’t ready.”

He shakes his head. “I’m glad you pushed me or else I might have never been ready.” He has a weird look in his eyes. “These last five days have been horrible. I’ve missed you like crazy and I realized something…” He takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

I don’t say it back, but not because I don’t feel the same way. It’s because every atom of my body seems to revolve around Bram and they are all pushing me to kiss him. Who I am to avoid peer pressure? I’ll tell him later. I’ll tell him a thousand times, a million times! I don’t remember walking over to him, but I know I do because suddenly I have him pressed against the wall and we’re kissing with so much passion it drives everything else out. Right now, all that exists is the kiss. I feel like I did that first time we kissed. Like we could kiss forever and I would be totally okay with that. But we don’t kiss forever, because my mom knocks on my door to tell me that dinner is ready.

“Is Bram staying?” She calls through the door.

“No.” Bram looks insulted, but I wait until I hear my mom walk away to explain. “I need to tell them and I don’t think you should be here for that. I’ve got to do this on my own.” I wish I didn’t have to, but my family deserves that.

“I get it. Call me afterwards?”

“I will.” He turns to leave. “Bram?” I wait until he’s facing me again. “I love you too.”

The smile that lights up his face is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. He should always smile like that.

We kiss for a second before we reluctantly leave. I walk him to my front door just so I can stall a little and I don’t join my family in the kitchen until I can’t see his car anymore.

“You look happy,” my mom observes as I pile food on my plate. 

I shrug and look around. Alice is here, which is good. It means I’ll only have to do this once. She’s been out almost every night since she came home. She’s hanging out with all the people she couldn’t stand in high school, but now claims to miss. I dunno. It seems weird to me, but I guess being so far away for school changed some things for her.

I push my broccoli around my plate, trying to muster up the courage to tell them. Three little words, but they are the hardest I’ve ever had to say. People always complain about how hard it is to say ‘I love you’, but that came so easily to me. Coming out to your family? So much harder than telling someone you love them.

“Is everything alright?” My mom asks.

I don’t look up at her. “Bram’s not my friend,” I finally say. It’s not ‘I am gay’ but it’s something, so I give myself a little credit for that.

“What happened? The two of you have gotten so close this summer.” My mom actually puts down her fork to give me her undivided attention. She looks really upset about it - like way more than I expected.

“That’s not what I meant.” I take a deep breath. “Bram is my boyfriend. I’m… gay?” It comes out like a question, but that’s only because I made the mistake of looking up and seeing my dad with his mouth agape threw me off.

My dad recovers and for a moment he just stares at me. When he opens his mouth, my mom elbows him. I’m kind of grateful for that. When Alice told us about Theo, it was bad. Really bad. Bad enough that none of us have met him yet and he’s come to see her. He literally spent a couple of days in a hotel because Alice wouldn’t let him stay here. And you know it’s bad when my mom understood her decision.

“Thank you for telling us,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry if we did anything to make you feel like you couldn’t tell us sooner.” She doesn’t look surprised. Like at all.

“Did you know?” I ask incredulously.

“Kind of,” she admits. My dad turns to stare at her and I realize that she didn’t share this with him. “You know, for awhile I thought you liked Leah. You enjoyed spending more time with her than any of your girlfriends. But then I saw you with Bram and it’s like you were transformed. You looked so free, like you didn’t have to hold anything back with him. And I’ve actually seen you blush with him.”

“I do not blush.” Lies. Complete lies and I know it. But it’s all his fault. He’s practically on a mission to make me blush everytime he sees me. He’s said that red’s a good color on me. And he has it down to a science at this point.

“Plus, the two of you are REALLY loud,” Nora interjects. 

“Oh my god. You did not hear us,” I say.

“I did.” A smug grin crosses her face. “I heard enough to know he looooooooooves you.”

Well, there goes my ‘I don’t blush’ argument, because I’m pretty sure I would put a sunburnt tomato out of business right now. “What are you, ten?” I ask. Not the best comeback, but it’s the best I could think of. “Wait, that happened an hour ago.”

Before she has a chance to explain herself, my dad recovers and asks, “was I the only one that didn’t know?”

“No, there was Alice…” I glance at her and frown when I see the weird look on her face. “There was Alice, right?”

She looks at me guiltily. “You know the back porch is right under my window right? And it’s really not my fault. Your love life is better than most romcoms I’ve seen. I couldn’t help myself.”

“You did not just compare my love life to a movie,” I groan.

“It’s a compliment,” she assures me.

“Doesn’t feel like one. I thought we were so careful. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, we knew you weren’t doing anything we needed to talk about right away and I figured you would tell us when you were ready,” my mom explains.

“What do you mean? You knew we weren’t doing anything we needed to talk about?”

“Well, one day mom was doing laundry and honestly it’s your own fault. It’s like Alice said. It was like watching a movie or reading a romance novel,” Nora explains.

“When exactly was mom doing laundry?” I ask.

“The day you and Bram decided you weren’t going to have sex until you told all of us that you were together. You said it would be a betrayal of trust otherwise,” Alice supplies.

“Oh my God. Were you all listening in?” I ask. I’d forgotten about that conversation and I blush when I realize Bram and I will probably need to talk about it again.

“We were having a girl’s day in,” Alice says lamely.

“We never would have talked about that if I knew the three of you were eavesdropping,” I grumble.

“Yeah, we realize that. That’s why we didn’t tell you,” Nora tells me. Then she smiles at me wickedly. “You know, that’s not the only thing I overheard. Does Bram really kiss like Harry Potter?”

Oh. My. God. My mom is doing her best not to laugh, but Alice isn’t even trying. I’m pretty sure this is what people mean when they say they could die of embarrassment. It doesn’t seem like such an overreaction right now. It was pretty embarrassing when I accidentally said it to him in the first place and it’s even worse now. “I’m going to Bram’s,” I say quickly. I practically knock my chair over during my attempts to escape.

I think my mom calls after me, but I already have my shoes on and am on my way out the door by the time that happens.

I call Bram from my car and he meets me outside his house. I don’t even care that people could see us. When he holds me, I practically melt into his embrace. “So what happened?” He asks. I had been pretty vague on the phone. I just told him I needed to see him.

“Let’s go inside,” I say reluctantly. I don’t want to stop hugging him, but I also don’t want to have this conversation on his front lawn.

He nods. We get inside and he calls to his mom to tell her I’m here. She tells him to leave his door open. I sigh. “Goodbye privacy,” I mutter. Well, I guess we never really had it in the first place if my entire family was eavesdropping on our conversations.

When we get to his room, we take up our usual positions - him on his bed, me next to it. I stare at the weird painting Garrett had made him for his 16th birthday. The first time I saw it, I’d stopped short to look at it and Bram explained that he and Garrett don’t buy gifts for each other. They have a strict homemade policy and this is what Garrett made him to try to prove going homemade was a terrible idea. To prove a point, Bram hung it on his wall and slowly it started to grow on him. I didn’t get it at first, but now I kind of feel the same way. I don’t look away from it as I tell him what happened. For several minutes we sit in silence. 

“But I do kiss like Harry Potter, right?” he confirms.

I can’t help myself. It’s the intentionally innocent way he says it and the fact that it’s him and not my sisters this time, I can’t hold myself back. I’m pretty sure this is what it means to be in love. It’s not about the physical stuff, though that is really freaking great. It’s about the comfort and knowledge that I’ll never really be alone as long as I have him in my life. And it’s the fact that my mom was right; I don’t have to hold anything back with him. And it’s that I don’t have to be anyone but Simon.

We spend literally the best summer of my life together. It’s not even like we do anything special, but the ordinary things feel special with him. And the special things are extraordinary. Let’s just say it’s a really good thing that his mom works, because after I told my parents that we’re together, we’re constantly self-conscious that someone might be listening in from Nora’s bedroom, so we spend most of our time at his house enjoying some much needed alone time.

Too soon, school starts up again. When we get our schedules, I’m pleased to see that despite the fact that I was pining after Blue most of last year and my grades definitely reflected that, I didn’t slack off enough to be removed from any of my APs, so we have two AP classes together and Bram didn’t get his top elective, so we’ll have Debate together. That’s more than half of our day if we count lunch. I’m ecstatic until we get to Debate first period on our first day of senior year.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen. My name is Ms. Loiter and I will be your debate teacher this semester.” Ms. Loiter looks like she is fresh out of college. She doesn’t look much older than us. “I am really excited to dive into the fascinating world of debate with you. Over the next semester, we will hear both sides of some pretty interesting arguments that have popped up over time. We’ll talk about some serious topics like abortion or same sex marriage. And some funner topics like is strawberry or grape jelly better with crunchy or creamy peanut butter on a sandwich? I’ve found that some people have remarkably strong preferences when it comes to a PB&J sandwich. Even if that preference is I’m allergic so keep it away from me or I will die.”

She gets a couple of laughs from that, but I don’t laugh. I can’t. I have a weird feeling in my stomach from what she said earlier and my hand shoots up in the air of its own accord. “Ms. Loiter, why are we studying gay marriage. As of two months ago, it’s legal across the country, so is there really anything that we need to debate?” I ask. I can practically feel Bram glaring at me. I don’t really know where I’m planning on going with this. It’s one of those moments where my mouth went ahead and said something without consulting with my brain. If there were awards for not thinking things through, I’m pretty sure I would win.

“Mr…” She starts to say. She looks at me expectantly.

“Simon Spier,” I answer.

“Mr. Spier. Just because it is legal does not mean everyone approves,” she says haughtily. “Many people believe that marriage should be exclusively permissible amongst normal couples.” I don’t think I’m imagining the condescending tone that she is using.

“And by normal couples, you mean…” I ask. I don’t know if she realizes how angry she’s made me.

I suppose she must not have, because she actually answers me without a shred of remorse. “Heterosexual couples,” she says bluntly. She stares me down as if she’s challenging me to say something. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I think I’m in shock.

The minutes drag by as I wait for the bell to ring. All I can think about is how this is going to be the longest freaking semester ever. At least this is a half year class. I only have to get through four and a half months of it and I’ll be in Public Speaking.

I hate this. I hate that being gay is this whole freaking big deal. And I hate that it means that I can’t hug Bram and let him make all my problems disappear. If he were a girl, I would be able to hold his hand in the hallway, but he’s not. So I have to silently fume to myself. Bram pretends to trip into me when we’re in the hallway and the quick squeeze he gives my hand makes my bad mood disappear. I can’t sulk. We knew this was the reality of our relationship. And it’s worth it for Bram.

Eventually my anger for Ms. Loiter fades and I almost forget about that first day. We do abortion and the driving age and whether daylight savings is relevant anymore - it’s totally not. Then the topic of gay marriage comes up again in the middle of October.

It’s not too bad when we’re reading different articles, though some are hard to get through because I take them so personally. I’ve started exclusively doing debate homework with Bram, because he’s the only person that can help me feel even the slightest bit human while reading those articles. But it’s debate class and the articles don’t last forever.

The first day we’re scheduled to start talking about gay marriage, Bram has to talk me out of my car - he apparently does not believe hooky is healthy, but I stall enough that we at least end up being late to class. He’s not exactly happy about it, but despite that, he’s doing his best to be supportive. It’s not like he’s excited to sit through class this next week.

We may as well have been on time, because Ms. Loiter is having computer problems, so she hadn’t been able to pull up the document that she’ll take notes on during class. Everyone is kind of lazing about while they wait for her. Bram and I take our seats. Thankfully, there’s like an unspoken code in class that you don’t sit in someone else’s seat. We don’t technically have assigned seats, but we still stick to the same seat every day.

She finally figures out everything with her computer and turns to face us. “Good morning,” she says happily. “As you know, over the next three weeks we will debate same sex marriage. You will have the opportunity to present arguments for or against it and we’ll have the opportunity to critique the strength of your arguments. Remember to use ethos, logos, and pathos to strengthen your argument and make sure you account for an audience of your peers. We’re going to start with some general discussion about same sex marriage and whether you think the Supreme Court made the correct decision in legalizing it.” Her body language makes it obvious that she thinks it was a mistake. She may as well have come out and said it. And as if that’s not bad enough, she continues. “There are a lot of people that believe homosexual couples violate the sanctity of marriage, which I’m sure all of you are aware of as we live in a state that is predominantly opposed to same sex marriage.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bram close his eyes and look down at his desk. He doesn’t even need to say anything.This isn’t freaking fair. How can she say these things? Aren’t teachers supposed to keep thoughts like that to themselves? Granted, no one in this room except for me and Bram knows it applies to us, but that doesn’t make it easier. I feel like I’ve got to do something, because if I sit here and say nothing then I’m not going to be the last kid that feels this way because of her. 

“And what exactly are your thoughts on gay marriage?” I ask. 

I don’t even bother raising my hand. Since that first day, she’s hated me so I know she wouldn’t call on me even if I tried to raise my hand. I’m not really sure how I got pegged as the defiant kid, but it’s not a title I ever expected to hold or to live up to. I haven’t even done anything since school started… well, I called out once while we were studying daylight savings, but I hardly count that. It’s really her fault because she refuses to call on me. I guess she thought she was preventing me from making a scene or something. Jokes on her, because I think she turned me into the kid that calls out in class. Does calling out twice warrant that title? I don’t even know.

All eyes are on me and I know why. If her body language tells us that she’s not in favor of gay marriage, my body language is telling them that I’m ready to fight tooth and nail over this. It’s not common for me to pick fights like this. I’m practically sitting on the edge of my seat and the only thing keeping me from telling her exactly what I’m thinking is the fact that she’s a teacher. And that I’m not out yet. And that I’m terrified of confrontation. 

She frowns. “For the purposes of debate, I believe that both sides have excellent points. It’s important to acknowledge that this is a matter that isn’t an issue in many more liberal states and it’s also important to note that at the end of the day, by legalizing gay marriage we have ultimately hurt more people than we’ve helped.”

I can see Bram shrinking into his seat out of the corner of my eye. We expect this crap from our peers - one of the reasons we haven’t come out yet - but not from our teachers. They are supposed to be the people we could go to when students say shit like that.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“Well, a lot of people are really upset about it,” she explains. “Can you justify giving rights to a group of people that doesn’t necessarily need them when it upsets and insults the people that have been exercising those rights all along?”

“That sounds like what people used to justify slavery,” I tell her. It may be a little dramatic, but come on. What the fuck is she thinking? What makes her think that we don’t deserve the same rights as hetero people? “Why give them rights and treat them like human beings when no one in their generation has known those rights? Because they’re freaking people, that’s why.” One look at her and I know I’m dangerously close to getting thrown out of class. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this red before. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to the nurse.” I don’t ask, I just leave the room.

She looks flustered as I walk out; as if she’s not sure what she did wrong. It’s not until I’m in the hallway that I realize I didn’t grab any of my stuff.

It doesn’t take long before Bram appears. He’s holding my stuff in his hand and has his bag hitched over his shoulder. He had a pink hall pass in his hand.

I’m thrilled that he’s doing this for me. Sure, he got permission, but it takes a lot for him to miss class. “Skipping class, huh?”

He shrugs and looks lost in thought for a minute. “Come on. Our usual place,” he says quietly. I obediently follow him to the drama locker rooms. We’ve spent a couple of lunches in here. It’s good to have a getaway when pretending that we’re just friends gets to be too much. He closes and locks the door behind us. Neither of us make any attempt to sit down. “Let it out.”

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” I mutter. “How can she do that? How can she stand up there and say that legalizing gay marriage hurt people? Like how does our ability to marry one day hurt anyone? Why does she think we don’t deserve to be in love.”

He chuckles. “Regardless of whether she thinks we deserve to be in love doesn’t mean we’re not. She can’t change the way we feel about each other, so remember that she doesn’t have as much power as you think.” He shakes his head. “And we knew a lot of people were going to think like that. That’s why we agreed to keep this to ourselves.” To his credit, he doesn’t sound angry with me. I would have been if our positions were reversed. If I keep this up, people are going to get suspicious.

“Yeah, but she’s a teacher. It’s literally her job to support us no matter who we are. Do you feel supported?” I ask.

He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Hey,” he whispers. I turn to face him. “It’s not okay, but we’ll get through this. We can handle a couple of months with her. You only have to make it to the end of December.”

“I don’t think I can,” I tell him. “What are other kids going to think when they hear her talk about how wrong gay marriage is? It’s not even about us, but that’s the message she’s giving to our friends. How are we ever supposed to come out to them? This shit’s hard enough already without her adding to it.” I’d been so excited when Nick, Leah, Abby, and Garrett had been in our debate class, because it was the only class I shared with Nick and it’s fun for us to all be together, but this is kind of my nightmare.

“Just please, don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he pleads. He glances around and grabs my hand. “I love you and I don’t want this to get to you.”

“I’ll do my best.” Even I can hear the lie in my voice. “Look, I don’t know how to explain it, but I know you weren’t happy with what she was saying.”

“I wasn’t happy about it,” he agrees. “Are you sure this is a battle you want to pick?”

I sigh. “I think it is. I dunno, I guess I’m just so tired of sitting and taking it,” I tell him.

“Okay. If you want to go to war over this, go to war,” he tells me. “I can’t say I’ll fight with you, but I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

“I’m not going to war,” I mumble. I was very, very wrong. 

I don’t have play practice after school because Ms. Albright has a doctor’s appointment, so Bram comes over to do some homework. My mom calls me over when I walk in and terror grips me when I see my mom and dad sitting at the kitchen table. They clearly looked like they were waiting for me. My heart begins beating and I’m almost certain that someone’s dead or hurt. 

My thoughts go to my grandma. She was in the hospital over the summer, but she’s been doing so much better. And she’s still so young. I mean, she’s a grandma so she’s old. But she had my aunt when she was nineteen, so she’s not that old. She’s only in her sixties.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. I don’t think it’s my imagination that my voice cracks.

“Ms. Knight called me this afternoon,” my mom starts.

Relief washes over me. Everyone’s fine. Then her words catch up with me. “Wait, Ms. Knight?” I ask uncertainly.

“She called to express some concerns in your performance in Debate class. You skipped class today?” She looks furious. And understandably so. I haven’t told her anything about Debate class. I’ve been meaning to… it just never came up. Or I’ve been avoiding it. It’s one of the two.

I look down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“No,” Bram says. I look up at him and he looks kinda similar to the day he told me who he was - nervous, but determined. “Mrs. Spier? Simon and I both left class today. We’re starting the debate of same sex marriage in class and our teacher made it pretty obvious that she thinks that gay marriage should have never been legalized because it ‘hurts more people than it helps.’ We were both pretty upset when she said that and instead of doing something he might regret, Simon left.” I look down at the floor again. I’d had no intention of telling my mom this, but I guess there’s nothing I can do about it now. I expect to be mad at Bram, but I’m kind of relieved that he’s doing this. I don’t really keep much from my parents and my mom always asks me how school went. I probably should have told her a while ago. “As for his performance, I’m just taking a guess here, but I’m guessing Ms. Knight said he doesn’t participate and is disruptive? Ms. Loiter hasn’t called on him since the first day of school when he challenged her because she said heterosexual couples are the only normal couples. How is he supposed to participate?”

It’s a really good thing that Bram’s doing the explaining, because I wouldn’t have been nearly as articulate and there would have been a lot more cussing.

My mom frowns. “Why didn’t you tell us?” She asks.

I shrug. “I figured I could handle it,” I tell her. “You’re always telling me that I need to be the one that talks to my teachers.”

She studies me for awhile. “You know this is different, right? This isn’t you having to ask for extra credit or an extension on an assignment,” she says quietly. “This is the kind of thing that you shouldn’t have to deal with on your own.” She picks up her phone. “I’m calling Ms. Knight back.”

“No!” I practically shout.

“Yes,” she says sternly. “I’m proud of you for trying to handle this, but Ms. Knight needs to hear from me that I support you and that I have concerns about your teacher.”

I sigh. When my mom gets like this, there’s no use arguing with her. She puts in the number and puts her phone on speakerphone. It rings and rings and rings until the secretary picks up. “Creekwood High School Main Office, how can I help you.”

“I’d like to speak with Cathy Knight.”

“She’s unavailable right now, may I take a message?” She sounds bored. I realize, she was probably getting ready to leave.

“You can tell her that this is Emily Spier and I’m willing to stay on hold as long as it takes for you to put me through to her,” my mom asserts. I feel like I would do anything she asked me to do at that point.

“One moment.” She puts us on hold and it’s silent. I thought she hung up on us, but we intermittently hear static. I’d expected the typical, crappy hold music. Somehow, silence is worse.

It’s almost ten minutes before someone picks up the phone. “Cathy Knight.”

“Hello Ms. Knight. This is Emily Spier.”

“Hello Mrs. Spier. What can I do for you today?” She asks in a cheery voice. As if she doesn’t know what this is regarding.

“I talked with my son regarding the incident we discussed earlier. Are you aware of why he left class?”

“Sarah… Sorry, Ms. Loiter told us he caused a disturbance and stormed out,” Ms. Knight says.

“Yes, well. That disturbance was my son standing up for an issue that he is very passionate about. They are currently on the topic of same sex marriage and Ms. Loiter said some things that aren’t really appropriate to say in front of school-aged children.”

There’s a long silence. “I would be happy to discuss your concerns with Ms. Loiter; however, keep in mind that she does have an obligation to discuss both sides of the issue.”

“Is she discussing both sides?” My mom asks.

“I believe she is,” Ms. Knight says matter-of-factly. I’m kind of curious to see who will win this. I don’t think either of them are used to losing arguments. “And I am inclined to believe Ms. Loiter when she says that Simon is acting out because he’s failing her class.”

My jaw drops. I’m what? I’ve never failed a class. Ever. The closest I’ve come is when I got a C in the fifth grade, but that was only because I forgot to do my book report and no amount of pleading would convince Ms. Smith to let me turn it in late. How am I failing? We don’t even have any grades yet. Our arguments are only like 10% of our grade.

“Failing,” my mom says quietly. I know that she’s staring at me, but I can’t even pull myself together enough to look away. I’m failing a class. My senior year and I’m failing a class.

“Yes. He got a 13 out of 100 on his reaction paper,” Ms. Knight explains.

My shock immediately disappears and now I’m pissed. “Ms. Knight. I need a minute,” I say roughly. “We will be right back to the phone. Please, don’t hang up.” Even I can hear the anger in my voice. My hand is shaky as I press mute. I’m grateful when Bram grabs my hand. It makes me feel marginally calmer. I look at my mom. “You trust Bram’s judgment, right?” My mom looks confused, but nods. I turn to Bram. I’m pretty sure that I have his hand in a death grip, but he’s not complaining. “Is there any reason I should have gotten a 13 out of 100 on my reaction paper?”

We have to write two reaction papers for Debate class and we get to choose which topics to do them on. Whatever we choose, they’re due the day before we start the discussion on that topic. The very first day, I’d decided that this would be one of my reaction papers, so I started working on it in August. Bram had proofread it and I don’t think he’s ever been so proud of one of my papers. It was thorough and well-researched. I did not deserve a 13 on that. I deserved a freaking 100! I have never worked so hard on an assignment before and I met all of the expectations of the reaction paper rubric.

Bram shakes his head. “That paper was perfect.” He looks to my mom. “He’s been working on it for months. It’s better than most of my papers and I practically have grammar in my blood.”

My mom unmutes her phone. “Ms. Knight? I would like to request that you personally look at his reaction paper and tell me if that grade is warranted. Simon is really upset, because he feels he put a lot of effort into that paper. Even one of his friends is saying that they saw how much time he spent on it.”

Ms. Knight sighs. “I’ll ask for his paper first thing in the morning. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Ms. Knight?” I ask. My voice is a little shaky.

“Yes Mr. Spier,” she says. She sounds tired.

“I didn’t want this to become a big deal, but you know me. You know I’m not disruptive and I’m not a bad student. If I don’t put effort into something, I can own up to that. I got an eighty on my first argument and I deserved that. I didn’t deserve this grade,” I tell her. “I just wanted you to hear that from me.”

“Thanks Simon.” Her voice sounds gentle.

“And Ms. Knight? I do have one request.”

“What is it?” She asks.

“When we were debating daylight savings, I made a comment about how the circumstances that made daylight savings necessary are no longer relevant and it seems like because of that, we somehow ran out of time before I could present my argument. So my entire grade for my argument was based on my written argument and not my oral presentation. I was the only one that didn’t get to go.” I can practically feel my mom glaring at me. Yeah, I guess I let this go on a little too long without telling her about it. “I would like the opportunity to present my argument on this topic, just like my classmates.”

“That is fair. I will make sure Ms. Loiter is aware that everyone needs to go,” Ms. Knight agrees.

“Thanks,” I say gratefully.

My mom hangs up a few minutes later after she confirms the steps Ms. Knight will take to investigate this further.

“I’m sorry that this is happening to you,” she says seriously. “To both of you. You don’t deserve to hear a teacher say these things and in case you haven’t heard someone say this yet… the two of you deserve everything and more. If you want to get married… far, far, far into the future. After you’ve both gotten a college education. And not until you’re financially and emotionally ready. And not until you’ve discussed it with us and Winnie.”

“We get it. A lot needs to happen before we get married. We’re in high school. We’re not ready to talk about this,” I interrupt. “And when we are ready to get married, you and Bram’s mom will be the first people we tell.”

“Right.” She at least looks a little embarrassed by her tangent. “My point is, it’s not just about you having the right to get married. You deserve it. Both of you.”

“Thanks,” I say softly.

We end up sitting with my parents for a few minutes in silence. My dad has been strangely quiet through this whole thing. “What is it?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I just… I don’t think I got it until now. When you came out to me, I didn’t understand why you waited so long to tell me. I thought…” He lets out the breath he was holding. “I just didn’t realize what was happening while we didn’t know you were gay. Ms. Loiter isn’t the first time you’ve heard someone talk like this. I’ve been making jokes and saying stuff for years… since you were a little kid.”

I look away from him. I never told him how his jokes affected me, because I didn’t want to upset him. And because I knew he didn’t mean them. “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him.

Maybe it’s because I don’t look at him when he says that, but I don’t think he believes me. “It does though. I don’t care that you’re gay. And I love that you found someone like Bram. You are my son and I will always love you.”

Oh god. Now I’m crying. My dad gets up and hugs me. I didn’t know that I needed this.

Bram and I go to my room after that. We do really have homework. Bram stays for dinner and he tells me that I should give a copy of my reaction paper to my mom. I do and she looks flattered when I hand it to her. She actually puts in on the fridge with a magnet, which is kinda mortifying. But I guess it’s nice that she’s that proud of it.

The next day in class, we get the debate schedule and I’m not surprised to see that I am the last person scheduled to present my argument. I have a feeling Ms. Loiter did that in the hopes that we would run out of time and I wouldn’t get to go, so jokes on her. This just means I have a full week to prepare my argument. I think even Bram is impressed with my thoroughness… and concerned, but definitely also a little impressed. 

In the week that leads up to my presentation, only three people argue in favor of gay marriage - Leah, Abby, and Bram. Nick argues that he thinks it shouldn’t be a topic up for debate, because who cares? And Garrett did the abortion argument that his ‘dog ate’ in August so I don’t really know where he stands. 

At least once a day, I argue in favor of same sex marriage. Weirdly, not one person suspects that I’m gay. Instead, they seem to think I’m doing this purely to spite Ms. Loiter. Nick says as much during lunch the day he presents. He went the second day and his argument had been particularly painful and had earned me a detention because I compared it to the Holocaust. Yeah, I took it way too far. And I try to tell him that, but he’s too angry to listen.

“I don’t care if you have this stupid vendetta against Ms. Loiter, you don’t get to take that out on us,” he snaps when I apologize.

“It’s not stupid,” I grumble.

“Are you kidding? It’s not like you care about this shit! You just want to make her look stupid. Well guess what? That’s not going to happen because she’s not wrong.” He may not know it, but it’s like a slap to the face.

“Okay, I may have taken it a little far, but it’s not because I don’t care. I actually have an opinion about this,” I tell him.

“A little too far? A little? You told me the Holocaust was caused by people like me who didn’t care that Jewish people were being discriminated against.” 

Like I said - I took it too far. But none of my other arguments worked and I was so upset that it was Nick of all people. And he just wasn’t getting it.

“Look, I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I said. But is it so hard for you to believe that I actually care about this? That I might want the world to be a little more inclusive?”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Cut the shit. We both know that you don’t care.”

“I do,” I insist.

He shakes his head. “You’re just being stupid about this whole thing.”

Now, I recognize that I was in the wrong when I brought up the Holocaust, but Nick’s not one to talk. I’ve never, not once, called him stupid when he was in one of his philosophical moods and was talking about god knows what.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that I care?” I ask him. I actually want to know. What is it about me that makes people think that I’m arguing because I want to act up and not because I care? I know it’s not my inherent straightness, because honestly I embody several gay stereotypes. I’m in the play for Christ’s sake. Not that being in the play automatically means someone is gay. There are a couple of other guys in the play and with the exception of Cal, to my knowledge they’re all straight. 

For a moment, I’m swept away in the nostalgia of the day Cal came out to us. I’d been so disappointed that day. I was so sure he was Blue and then he told us he was bi. Thank God it wasn’t him, because I honestly can’t imagine my life without Bram in it. “You know, Abby and Leah have never accused me of not caring.” I’m sure they’ve thought it, but I don’t tell him that. “Bram has actually helped me with my argument. So why is it only you that can’t believe this?”

“Sure, bring my replacement into this,” Nick grumbles.

“What?” I ask uncertainly. What is he talking about?

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I go away for one summer and suddenly you’re BFFs with Bram. Everytime I call you, you’re with him.” Granted, that’s true. But it’s only because Nick has really shitty timing. Bram and I don’t spend nearly enough time together for my liking, but we both recognized boundaries are important. Since I started dating Bram, I feel like I’ve spent more time with Nick, Abby, and Leah than I did before.

“Are you kidding me? He’s not your replacement!” One look at Nick and I know he’s beyond arguing with. “I’m outta here.”

“Don’t forget your boyfriend.”

If he didn’t mean it in a derogatory way, I probably wouldn’t have gotten as angry as I did. “Fuck you.” I leave the cafeteria and go to my locker. I don’t know what I plan on doing for the rest of the lunch period. Fortunately, Bram joins me and we take refuge in the drama locker rooms. I wasn’t sure if he would follow me out. I kinda put him in a weird position.

“You need to tell them,” he says gently. My head is in his lap and he’s running his fingers through my hair. It makes me feel remarkably calm. “They deserve to know why this matters to you so much.”

“It shouldn’t matter. You shouldn’t have to be gay or know someone that’s gay to care about this,” I argue.

“I know. But you are gay and that is why this matters this much to you.” We’re quiet for a long time. “I think I’m going to tell Garrett.”

“Wow, that’s kind of a big step. What happened to not telling them until we’re ready for the school to know?”

“I know, and I’m still not ready for that, but I know you are.”

“I never said-” I start to say.

“You didn’t need to. I know you. And I can see how much this is eating you up inside. I’m not enough to support you through everything with debate and I shouldn’t be enough,” he tells me. “Besides, you have been really great with giving me my space to be ready. This is the least I can do.”

“Thanks,” I say softly. I let my eyes drift closed and for a second, there’s nothing but him and me. “I think I’ll tell them after we’re done with this topic in debate. I want to give this some time to die down a bit.”

He nods. “Whenever you want to tell them is fine with me.”

I smile to myself. I truly got lucky with Bram.

Nick doesn’t talk to me all weekend and I sit at a different lunch table Monday and Tuesday. Bram sits with me, which I don’t think is helping the replacement argument. But I figure Nick will know the truth soon enough so I don’t let it bother me that much.

By the time I’m sitting in class on Wednesday, I don’t know what I’m more nervous for. My argument in debate or to tell Nick, Leah, and Abby about me and Bram.

My argument goes great. I can see Bram’s smile getting bigger as I manage not to go off on random tangents. By the time I finish, I’m feeling pretty proud of myself.

But there’s something I didn’t think of. And I should have, considering I’ve been a nightmare for most of my classmates during this. My classmates have 20 minutes to argue against me.

The very first hand to go up is Nick’s. I can see from his expression that this is gonna be bad.

“So the foundation of your argument is that gay people deserve to marry because it’s a right granted to everyone else, right.” I nod. I’m not sure where he’s going with this. “Well, can’t gay people get civil unions, which is basically the same thing as getting married.”

“It is not the same thing,” I say through gritted teeth. “A civil union offers similar rights on a state level, but federally a same sex couple doesn’t have any rights in a civil union. Furthermore, if you had done your research, you would know that you can’t get a civil union in Georgia.”

“Ah, so you’re saying that people get married for the benefits.”

“Things like insurance, tax breaks, social security,” I clarify.

“But surely things like that don’t matter for two people in love,” he says mockingly.

“Let’s look at health insurance. Your mom is on your dad's insurance, right? Well, a same sex couple wouldn’t have been able to do that, because they would not have been recognized as a spouse by any insurance company.”

“That doesn’t seem like such a big deal. So, they get their separate insurances.”

“Rich coming from someone that never has to worry about stuff like that,” I snap. “You don’t have to worry about being denied rights on the basis of who you like.”

“Isn’t that a little hypocritical? It’s not like you have to worry about that either,” he says skeptically.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not it applies to me. This shouldn’t be an issue that only gay people care about. Gay people need the support of their friends and families!”

“So you’re just an ally, huh,” Nick says. He’s pushing my buttons and he knows it. I think he’s trying to get me to admit that I don’t care about this or that I’m just doing it to spite Ms. Loiter.

“Well, that’s part of it,” I agree. “I also believe that we’re all people no matter what we look like or who we love.”

“So what’s the other part?”

“What?”

“You said that’s part of it. What’s the other part?” He asks.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does. I mean, you clearly care about this so much to create a disruption everyday,” he points out.

“Maybe this is an issue that warrants a disruption.” I’m gripping the ancient wooden podium in front of me and my knuckles are white.

“But why?” He asks.

“Because,” I mutter.

“Why?” He repeats.

“Because I care!”

“But why? Why do you care about this so much?”

“Because I’m gay!” I shout. I’m pretty sure people must have heard me down the hall. A deafening silence follows and all I can look at is the shocked look on Nick’s face. Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it. I don’t look at Bram, I can’t look at him. I know he must be pissed and he has every right to be. I look down at the podium. “I’m gay. So when I say I care, that’s why. When I say you shouldn’t have to be gay to care about this, it’s because I need my friends to understand.” I feel a burning in the back of my throat and my eyes sting. I refuse to cry during class, so I take a deep breath. It doesn’t help much. It just makes the burning feeling spread to my chest. “I needed you to understand before I could tell you. I needed you to understand that who I love doesn’t matter. That I deserve to love as deeply as you do and I deserve to express that love through marriage if that’s what me and my boyfriend decide one day. I deserve to go to school and not hear about how me being in love hurts other people or how wrong it is to be gay.” I finally look up at Nick. “I needed my best friend to get it and instead, I had to listen to him talk about how it doesn’t matter. About how my future doesn’t matter. So that’s why I care. Are you fucking happy now?” Nick’s jaw is still open and I’m still pointedly avoiding looking at anyone else. I don’t want to know what I’ll see.

I have no idea what to say to that, but I guess luck is on my side because Ms. Knight sticks her head in our classroom. “Mr. Spier, come with me,” she orders me.

I reluctantly follow her to her office. The last time I was in here, she gave me a detention and told me that if I caused a disruption in Debate again, I would get suspended.

I guess suspension is off the table, because we spend nearly three hours talking about my ‘outburst’ and everything that lead up to it. She’s surprisingly sympathetic and just seems upset that I didn’t tell her all this the last time I was in here or when we were talking on the phone. I’m in her office until the bell rings for lunch and I’m surprised when she lets me go without even the slightest punishment. I mean I have to check in with one of the counselors tomorrow and she’s going to call my mom to let her know what happened, but that’s not nearly as bad as what I was expecting.

When I get to the cafeteria, Nick is sitting at our usual lunch table by himself. I expect to be furious with him after what happened in Debate, but I don’t have room for that. I’m tired of feeling angry. I mostly want my best friend back. I hesitantly walk towards him, not sure if we’re still fighting.

I awkwardly linger across from him until he starts speaking. “Look, I never should have told you that you were stupid for challenging Ms. Loiter. You tried to tell me that you really cared and I didn’t even give you the chance to tell me why. I really didn’t know.” He huffs and takes a sip from his water bottle. He almost looks like he’s in pain. I’m tempted to end this silence, but I know him well enough to know that he’s figuring out what to say. Sure enough, only a minute - a really, really long and awkward minute - passes before he continues. “If I had known, I never would have said any of that stuff. I swear. And it shouldn’t matter. You’re right. We shouldn’t need to know someone that’s gay to stand up for them. It doesn’t matter to me that you’re gay. You’re still my best friend… well, I hope you’re still my best friend.”

“Of course we’re best friends. It’s fine,” I say with a small smile. Apologies were never his strong suit and as far as this one goes, it could have been a lot worse.

“No, it’s not. I’m really sorry. I was such a dick,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s okay. I like d-” I cut myself off abruptly as my brain catches up with my mouth. I really need to work on the filter thing. “You know what? Not going there.”

Nick starts hysterically laughing and I take the seat across from him. He’s still laughing when Abby walks up to our table. She squeezes my elbow and looks at Nick like he’s lost it… which he really has. She walks around the table and takes a seat next to Nick and within a couple of seconds, Leah takes one of the seats next to me. She looks at Nick and her eyebrows knit together. “Do I get to know the punchline?” Leah asks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nick laugh like this before.

“No!” I practically shout. I’m pretty sure I’m blushing if her laughter is anything to go by.

“But now I really want to hear it,” she pouts.

I shake my head and look at the empty seat next to me. If Bram were here, he would have rolled his eyes at her. Nobody asks where Bram is and I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. I didn’t get to see him after everything that happened and I can’t imagine he’s too pleased with me. I wonder if he’s going to skip lunch all together.

Finally Bram walks in with Garrett. They’re almost ten minutes late, which is really cruel considering I’ve practically been panicking. Garrett sits next to Leah and my relief is almost overwhelming when Bram fills the empty seat next to me. “So this morning,” he says quietly. Everyone at our table is staring at us, so I know we won’t have the talk that we need to have. He can’t really break up with me in front of everyone when they didn’t know we were together in the first place.

It’s risky, but suddenly I need him to know. I look at him anxiously. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. I try convey so much in that apology without giving too much away.

He finally turns to look at me and I’m surprised to see he’s smiling. He grabs my hand and a hush falls across the cafeteria. I don’t even think that most people can see what he’s doing because my hand is resting on my lap, but a bunch of people went quiet and started staring, so it caused a ripple effect. “I’m not. I think you were really brave.”

“You’re not mad?” I ask surprised. “But you said you weren’t ready.”

He shrugs. “You are a battle worth picking. If that means I’m out, then I’m out. I’m really proud to call you my boyfriend.” Then he does something that causes whispers to scatter throughout the cafeteria: he kisses my cheek. It’s not much, but it speaks volumes. 

I can’t help the goofy smile that crosses my face. I don’t care that Abby’s looking at me like Christmas came early or that Garrett looks at us knowingly. I guess Bram must have told him.

I turn back to the table and ignore my friends’ piercing stares. “So what did I miss in Calculus?” I ask Nick.

“Oh hell no. Do not answer him,” Abby glares at Nick. He puts up his hands defensively. “Don’t ‘what did I miss in Calculus’ us. The two of you are boyfriends and you didn’t tell us?”

“We didn’t want to make a big deal about it,” Bram shrugs.

“We are going to turn this into the biggest deal Creekwood High School has ever seen,” Abby warns.

I glance at Bram and surprisingly, I don’t hate the idea. Maybe after so long of keeping him secret, I’m ready for it to be a big deal.


End file.
